


the same old love, pain and soulmates

by killingderry



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soulmates, every trope for this ship ever including bedsharing and window climbin, follows movie canon except when it doesn't, no beta we die like men, underage drinking will be here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingderry/pseuds/killingderry
Summary: “Stop avoiding the elephant in the room.”Gasping dramatically and placing a hand on his heart, Richie joked, “I’ll be sure to tell Eddie that’s what you think of him.”“So it is Eddie then," Bev remarked gently. "Interesting."orIn a world where soulmates are a thing, the Universe isn't dumb enough to pair Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak up with anybody else.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, minor tho
Comments: 30
Kudos: 105





	1. when we were young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been crying over this damn clown movie for months now so i thought it was time to contribute to the fandom and not just wait for ShowMeAHero to post another exquisite fic.
> 
> this fic is basically reddie through the ages, but this chapter is just a small intro. big one ft that bitch pennywise coming soon.
> 
> work title based off snowy white's song 'love, pain and sorrow'  
> chapter title from adele's 'when we were young'

Eddie Kaspbrak was five years old when he was introduced to the idea of soulmates in one of the most fucked up ways possible.

It was obvious, even to a child, that something wasn’t quite right with his father. How he didn’t pick up Eddie anymore and ruffle his hair. How his mother didn’t smile much anymore. How the hospital had become their second home.

Even at five, Eddie knew his father was sick and he knew that it was bad.

But what Eddie couldn’t understand was why whenever his father vomited his guts up after treatment or lay bed ridden from the pain, his mother did too. He couldn’t understand why both of them were sick at the same time, and how whenever he asked if she was sick as well, she’d always say no.

Eventually they sat him down and gave him the _talk_. The soulmate talk.

His father gave him a small smile and explained, “The thing is Eddie, that your mother and I are soulmates.”

Eddie raised his brows at this, a million thoughts rushing through his young mind.

“What’s that?” he questioned.

“Well a soulmate is like,” his father started. “It’s like your perfect person to love.”

His mother continued with a grim expression, “When you’re born, the universe chooses them for you, and makes you love them so deeply that you feel their pain. So, when your dad is sick, I am too.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at this and pushed, “But _why_? That’s so stupid! I don’t want to feel my soulmate’s pain.”

“It’s just the way the world is, Eddie. Do you think I want to be feeling your father’s sickness like it’s my own?” she snapped, before raising her voice slightly. “And it’s why you must always, _always_ be so careful. You wouldn’t want your soulmate to feel pain, would you?”

Eddie shook his head furiously.

“Promise me, Eddie-bear, that you’ll always be so careful,” she said, eyes somewhat frantic.

“Sonia, don’t scare him,” his father whispered, placing a hand on her leg.

But Eddie wasn’t scared. All he felt was a sudden weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. Even though ‘soulmates’ still confused him slightly, he never wanted anyone else to feel his pain. Not after seeing what his parents have gone through.

Eventually his mother asked desperately, “Eddie-bear?” snapping him from his thoughts.

“I promise, Mommy,” Eddie replied seriously.

When his father died shortly after that conversation, Eddie was in the room when it happened. It was slightly morbid and definitely caused some issues surrounding death for Future Eddie. But because he was there, he also witnessed the moment his mother felt it. Felt the pain disappear and his father drift away. He was curious about what happened now. Did his mother get another soulmate? Did she feel anything now? Or was it just nothing at all?

But he was a kid, and he didn’t know how to sensitively articulate his thoughts. Anything he said came out wrong and it wasn’t long until his mother shut down any talk of soulmates.

Whenever Eddie mentioned it, all he got was, “No Eddie-bear, you know how mommy feels about that.”

None of his friends knew much about the topic either, as most children didn’t formally learn about it until elementary school. He even tried to ask the teachers at pre-k, but they refocused his attention on finger painting and learning letters.

It worked for the most part, and Eddie almost completely forgot about soulmates for a while after that.

But a few months later he heard it again, as he laid in a hospital bed feeling the sickest he’d ever felt. Even worse than when Richie sneezed on him and gave him the flu.

A nurse had walked in and said, “Mrs. Kaspbrak, I believe your son’s soulmate is in the hospital. A small child, aged five with phantom pneumonia. The parents are asking if they can come up and wish your son well. Can I bring them up?”

His mother’s back got really straight and tense, and she snapped, “Absolutely not. Eddie doesn’t need to worry about soulmates right now.”

“Their child is sick too; they just want to -”

“Their child isn’t sick! It’s not real. Mine is the only one truly suffering,” his mother had snapped. “Eddie doesn’t need his soulmate, he has me.”

Eddie had felt awful, and not just from the pneumonia. He was angry at himself for being sick and felt the sting of responsibility that he was the reason his soulmate was sick too. The promise he made ran more thoroughly through his veins now and Eddie swore that he’d never let himself get this sick again.

Eventually, he got better and was released, but his mother was even more overbearing and protective than before. And now, not only was his soulmate a reason to keep him inside and under her watch, his brief illness was as well. She fed him pill after pill and shoved an inhaler in his hand, but Eddie never argued. He knew it was for the best.

His soulmate would thank him later.

* * *

Richie Tozier was five years old when he got his first taste of what it was like to have a soulmate. He’d come down with a fever so bad his parents took him to the hospital immediately. The doctors soon confirmed that it wasn’t Richie that had pneumonia, but his soulmate. Being five and not privy to the universe’s matchmaking service, Richie didn’t recognise the term and was too sick to ask. For the first time in his young life he was rendered speechless.

With soulmate medicine not quite approved yet, the doctors sent Richie and his parents’ home. He lay in his bed for days, sweating through his sheet and being fretted over. It didn’t last forever, and Richie had never been happier to go to pre-k, a place he usually despised.

He barely even said goodbye to his parents as he rushed through the doors. He had much more important business to attend to. Like finding his friends and making sure they still remembered him. A few weeks away feels like a year to a child, and nothing quite scared Richie like being forgotten about.

Bill and Stan were easy to find, hovering over the book section and chatting quietly. But no Eds.

Richie strode over to them, greeting them quickly before asking, “Where’s Eddie?”

They just shrugged in response, so Richie went straight to the nearest teacher.

“Eddie is away sick, Richie,” was the answer given.

Richie’s bottom lip quivered, and he asked, “Is he okay?”

The teacher smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry, Richie. Eddie will be back any day now.”

And she was right. The next week, Eddie came back to pre-k. He was sporting a weird face mask and a brand-new fanny pack, but he was _there._

“Spaghetti, I missed you!” Richie said, trying to wrap his arms around the boy like he always did in the mornings.

But Eddie shoved his hands away and muffled through the face mask, “Mommy says I can’t touch _anyone_ or _anything_. I was just very, _very_ sick.”

“Hey, so was I!”

* * *

At seven years old, Eddie knew Richie was his favourite person in the whole world. And he wasn’t really sure why.

While himself, Bill, Stan and Richie had always been best friends, there was always _something_ about Richie that Eddie was so drawn to. It often confused him, why he liked Richie so damn much. Especially when he gave Eddie so many reasons _not_ to.

For one, the kid just talked and talked and talked about anything and anyone, _constantly_. He drove their teachers mad, and his mother downright hated him.

Richie was also constantly annoying Eddie. From his fanny pack to the way he breathed, Richie had something ‘funny’ to say about it.

But still and without falter, Eddie found himself liking Richie the most out of all of his friends.

Maybe it was because whatever the situation, Richie’s attention was always on Eddie.

Maybe it was because if anyone, other than Richie, teased Eddie, Richie would yell at them and threaten to pants them.

Maybe it was in the way Richie would yell “Eddie Spaghetti!” in greeting every day as Eddie walked into school, even though he knew Eddie would reprimand him about the nickname.

Eddie couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and he wouldn’t for a long, _long_ time, but even at seven he knew there was _something_ about Richie.

‘Soulmates’ were re-introduced in a more formal manner later that year when the second-grade teachers gathered the children in one room and gave a presentation about it.

They explained that everyone has a soulmate that the universe has handpicked for them, and that it doesn’t discriminate. Soulmates can be a boy or a girl or neither at all. That sometimes, your soulmate is just a really good friend. They said that soulmates are like magnets, and once found, it’s often hard to be away from each other.

And then they talked about the pain. Which, frankly, was the most frightening and intriguing part of it all. 

Eddie had always remembered parts of what his mother had said when he was younger, and he’d always kept his promise to be careful. Always watched where he was walking, steered clear of the bullies (where he could) and rode his bike cautiously.

He couldn’t say the same about his soulmate. They were almost _prone_ to accidents. His mother called them ridiculous and that his soulmate must be a silly, dangerous girl.

One of the teachers, Miss Hill, tried to explain the phenomena in simple terms by stating, “Because soulmates share such a deep connection, they feel each other’s pain. Scientists think it’s so we know when they’re in danger, so we can protect them. But we really haven’t found a certain cause yet.”

The other one, Mr Jones, chimed in after asking the children to raise their hand if they’d ever felt pain they didn’t cause.

Bill, Stan and Eddie raised their hand immediately. But Richie didn’t, along with a few others.

“It’s okay if you haven’t, when you’re growing up it can be difficult to tell what a soulmate pain is and what isn’t. As you get older, you will be able to know the difference. Sometimes it can be as small as a little pinch!”

The room went silent for a beat, and then all of the children started pinching themselves silly in the hopes of finding their soulmate sitting right next to them.

In hindsight, it _was_ really stupid of the teachers to tell a bunch of children that the love of their life can feel even a little pinch of pain.

It was pure chaos, with the whole room going to town on their arm. Even Bill and Stan were tentatively pinching their forearms.

When he noticed Richie going to pinch his arm, Eddie slapped his hand away, “Rich, no! Don’t be stupid!”

Richie rolled his eyes from under his glasses and said, “Come on, Eds! Everyone else is doing it! Maybe if I pinch, my soulmate will pinch back. I just wanna see who my soulmate is, don’t you?”

Eddie eyed him curiously, remembering his mother’s words and his own personal mission to never hurt his soulmate.

“I don’t know, Rich -”

“Here I’ll do it for you!” Richie yelled leaning over and pinching Eddie’s forearm so hard it would certainly be leaving a nasty bruise.

Both boys screeched in pain, and at the time Eddie was too young and too pissed with Richie to even notice the coincidence.

He narrowed his eyes at Richie before yelling, “My soulmate is going to hate me forever now, idiot!”

“Your soulmate sucks ass then!”

“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie sneered. When he was met with a pause, Eddie raised his hand in a pointed direction at Richie and said, “Richie say you’re sorry, right now!”

Richie grinned at him and replied cheekily, “Never! At least now your soulmate knows you’re not a huge wuss. I bet they didn’t even know you existed before.”

His words set Eddie off, and acting on animal instinct he lunged for Richie. He threw a few petty slaps, and felt Richie slap him back just as hard. Richie fighting back just made Eddie angrier. If his soulmate didn’t hate him before, they most definitely did now.

It wasn’t long before the teachers peeled Eddie away from Richie and Miss Hill escorted him to the principal’s office, sitting in with him as he was berated.

“Edward, you can’t just go around hitting people. Especially not your friends,” the principal said matter-of-factly. “What did Richard even do to you?”

Tears brimming at his eyelids, Eddie explained the whole situation and ended by stating, “It’s not fair I’m in here and Richie isn’t. He hit me too!”

Miss Hill raised her eyebrows, before telling Eddie that “Richie hadn’t raised a hand at him.”

“Well, yes he did!” Eddie squealed. “I felt it! I wasn’t hitting myself!”

The two shared a knowing look before Miss Hill went to call his mother. Eddie sat sulking and anxiety ridden, rubbing the mark on his arm tenderly. He hoped his soulmate knew it wasn’t him and he didn’t mean it.

Eddie saw his mother enter the room in front of the office from his chair and watched as Miss Hill told her about what happened. She looked angry. Her face red and eyebrows raised. Eddie hoped she would understand it’s all stupid Richie’s fault, who is now most definitely _not_ his favourite person in the world anymore.

His mother didn’t stop shouting the whole ride home. About how stupid Eddie had been. About how his teachers were idiots for even doing the presentation. About how Richie Tozier was a dirty boy and Eddie was to stay away from him.

The next day it was easy to ignore Richie. He was ignoring him as well. He didn’t even call out “Eddie Spaghetti” that morning or make fun of the bandage his mother insisted on him wearing. But then Eddie realised that Bill and Stan were ignoring him too. He had to sit with a bunch of other kids at lunch. Kids who didn’t even _wash their hands_ before eating. It was awful.

And as quick as a seven-year old’s emotions change, his anger was fading away, replaced by the sadness of not being around his friends.

Of course, Eddie was still annoyed at Richie, especially because he’d gotten away with everything. But he wanted his friends back. All of them. Even Richie.

By the fourth day, things had perked up. Bill told him he could sit with them at lunch, but only if he wasn’t so mean to Richie and if he said sorry for hitting him.

Letting go of his pride, Eddie sat opposite Richie and whispered a small, “Sorry, Rich.”

Richie looked up at him and smiled, “It’s okay, you slap like a bitch. Barely felt a thing.”

“Richie, you have such a _trashmouth_. Where do you even get these words from?” Eddie berated, trying not to smile.

“Your mom.”

* * *

Richie was eleven years old when soulmates were mentioned again, after the absolute disaster that was _The Pinching Incident_. Teachers began hammering on about the importance of being ‘careful’ and not doing stupid things to find their soulmates. That they were still too young and should be focusing on school.

The topic always made Richie feel a bit ill. Everywhere he turned, his classmates were talking about some ‘deliberate’ pain they had felt. But Richie had barely felt anything from his soulmate his entire life. Aside from a kick here or a stubbed toe there, the only real pain he’d felt was when he got severely soulmate sick when he was young.

Because of this, Richie knew he had to have one, but he wondered if his soulmate was just not interested. Or if his soulmate was the safest kid on the planet.

“Soulmates are so dumb,” Richie had announced one day as they lounged on their bikes eating ice cream. “Girls are dumb.”

“You know it isn’t always a girl, right?” Stan stated, picking at his ice cream. “Sometimes boys get paired up and girls too.”

Richie rolled his eyes and said, “Sorry Staniel – people are dumb. This whole system is dumb. Who even thought of it?”

“It’s b-be-been around f-forever,” Bill said with a shrug. “No-one kn-knows why.”

Eddie was quiet, as he always was whenever soulmates were mentioned.

“Don’t you agree, Eds? That soulmates are dumb?” Richie asked.

Eddie’s face shifted slightly, and he said, “I think it’s a stupid thing, to be able to feel someone else’s pain. Why do I need to feel my stupid soulmate falling over or getting grass burn every two seconds? Honestly, Rich, they remind me of you. Every time we see you, you have a new scab or bruise.”

The mention of Eddie’s soulmate threw Richie slightly, he didn’t talk about it often and hearing about them now struck him in the gut. It was hard to imagine Eddie with a soulmate.

“Not everyone can be as careful as you, Spaghetti,” Richie replied, plastering a smile on his face. “Some of us have _fun_.”

Eddie’s lips pursed and he scorned, “Fun to me, Richie, isn’t about being some dare devil wannabe and not following rules!”

“Are you telling me I don’t follow rules?”

Stan interjected at this point, “Richie the other day you picked up a wet floor sign and used it to slide down the hallway.”

“It’s called hallboarding, you should give it a try, Stannie boy, might remove the stick from your ass,” Richie quipped with a smile. Hallboarding was the best fun he’d had all year.

“Hallboarding was f-fun,” Bill replied winking at Richie.

Richie threw him a cheeky grin and said, “There we have it folks, Big Bill agrees with me.”

Eddie was getting more frustrated by the second and shook his hand in the air, saying “This argument was about you not following the rules, idiot. And by admitting to hallboarding you are agreeing that you don’t follow the rules! That means you -”

Richie listened to Eddie bitch at him for another few minutes, with a dopey smile spread across his face. It was so easy to rile him up. And Richie loved doing it.

Their banter only grew with age and they never tired of relentlessly annoying the other. Sometimes when the group would hang out, Richie and Eddie would just go back and forth the entire time until the sun went down.

It wasn’t the same as taunting Stan or Bill, who got fed up with Richie far too quickly and simply rolled their eyes. Eddie _got_ Richie in a way most people didn’t. He understood his outlandish jokes and his Voices. He didn’t scream “Beep, beep Richie!” or tell him to shut up, he would just snark back at Richie back until one of the two cracked.

Even at eleven, Eddie was _it_ for Richie. 

Fanny pack and all. 


	2. teenagers scare the living shit out of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the big 1 3!
> 
> title from 'teenagers' by mcr

It was no surprise that at the tender age of thirteen, Richie realised he loved Eddie. As deeply as a newly minted teenager could love someone.

It wasn’t the ‘you’re my best friend, I love you and would die for you’ type of love. But the ‘you’re my _person_ , I _love_ you, I would _die_ for you’ love. There was a big difference, you see, and it took the wires in Richie’s brain a while to figure it out.

Because what he knew was that he loved Bill and Stan, and the new Losers, Mike, Bev and Ben. Absolutely. Jokes aside, he would do anything for them.

But he _loved_ Eddie – meaning, he’d let It eat every single one of those idiots including himself if it meant saving Eddie.

Realising he loved Eddie wasn’t a gradual thing. The actual love part probably was, given that they’d been friends since they could talk, but the realisation hit Richie like a freight train.

It happened about a month before the whole demon clown fiasco. He and Eddie were just hanging out together at his house reading comics, when Richie dropped a single potato chip on the floor.

“Five second rule!” Richie had called as he picked it up and put it straight in his mouth.

Eddie had sat up so quickly, his face turning inside out and yelling, “Oh my god, Rich, you absolute dumb fuck! You realise how many diseases you could get from that. Do you know the bacteria that live on the ground? Especially on _your_ floor! You need to spit it out right now. And go brush your teeth!”

But Richie was barely listening. He was fixated on the way the sunlight shone on Eddie’s hair and the twitch in his eyes that he got when he was rambling. At the raised hand and the mouth opening and shutting at a million miles a minute. He simply stared at Eddie, like he’d done a thousand times before, and realised in a sudden rush of adrenaline that what he had been feeling _forever_ was a lot more than platonic love. It was the kind of love he hears in music. The love he cringes at in rom coms. The love in the poems he’s forced to analyse in English.

Though being that he was Richie Tozier, a certified dumbass in the case of all deeply emotional feelings, discovering he was in love with his male best friend wasn’t exactly ideal.

For the next few weeks, a panic built in the pit of his stomach and a million questions racked through his brain on a daily basis.

Was he allowed to like boys? Was he wrong to? Was he taking advantage of his friend? What happens if he gets found out?

The big question that loomed over Richie was, _Am I gay?_

Although it was common knowledge that people often got paired with the same gender as soulmates, it was still dangerous to be gay. Especially in Derry, 1989.

At the time, Richie thought internalising his feelings for Eddie were his only option. He couldn’t even reconcile his own thoughts, let alone voice them aloud to another person. Besides, they both had soulmates out there waiting for them. Even if the thought _still_ made Richie sick.

He thought he was lucky, in some deeply fucked up way, that a demon clown came along to distract him. 

It was that same year that Richie had the ‘magical moment of soulmate discovery’.

Though, it was less magical and more terrifying, and instead of feeling pure elation he stood over the boy he loved, almost shitting his pants.

It happened pretty quickly, for something so monumental.

One minute, he and Bill were desperately trying to bang a rickety old door down in Neibolt House to save Eddie and the next Richie was flat on his back gasping for air and screeching in agony. His arm seared red hot fire and radiated a pain Richie couldn’t quite describe. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

And he sure as hell hadn’t caused it.   
“Motherfucker!” Richie screamed, still flat on the ground as his back ached. “Fucking fuck-fuck-fuck! Asshole!”  
Bill ran to him, pulling him up and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Richie felt hot tears falling from his eyes and yelled out a bit more before Bill asked, “W-what’s wrong? D-did It g-get you?”

Shaking his head, Richie screamed, “The one fucking time my soulmate decides to do _anything_ , they break their fucking arm!”

He thought he was going to kill his soulmate. Radio silence for _years_ and now, when Richie is literally standing in the face of death, they decide to break a bone. What a fucking dweeb.

“Help! No!” Eddie screamed shakily from the other room, shaking Richie out of his trance.

“Fuck, Eddie!” Richie shouted, shoving Bill away. “We gotta help him. Fuck my soulmate. I’m good. I’m good. Let’s go.”

And he meant it. _Fuck_ his soulmate. Eddie needed him – he was there.

The universe can suck his dick.

As they rushed through the door, Richie felt the hand around his throat before they heard Eddie scream. Something was choking him, an invisible force with a strength he couldn’t overcome. Long fingers were wrapped around his neck and Richie almost doubled over in the pain and discomfort, but Bill caught him just in time.

“R-Rich? What’s g-going on?” Bill asked, worry etched all over his face.

“I don’t –” Richie tried to choke out, trying to move his feet forward towards Eddie. Bill pulled him along, not wanting to leave him stranded in the house.

Richie was coughing and blubbering, and the pain was dizzying. He wondered what the _fuck_ his soulmate was up to.

Bill dragged him through the door, and miraculously the hand lifted. Suddenly Richie could breathe again. Or try to.

Gasping for air, and spluttering out spit, Richie tried stand up but ended up on his hands and knees. When he lifted his head, he watched as It turned to him and Bill, one arm outstretched onto Eddie.

“Eddie!” Richie screamed, pushing himself to stand up and gain a better look at him. “Eddie!”

It’s body was still covering him, blocking Richie from seeing him completely, but he kept his eyes on Eddie’s. Even as It moved closer to them, taunting Bill, Richie didn’t look away. Eddie was staring back at him, fear swimming in his eyes and tears falling. He was biting his lip, like he was concealing a scream.

Richie tried to send him some reassurance through the eyes, but the look on Eddie’s face told him he didn’t quite get the message.

As soon as It was still and wounded, Richie and Bill made a run for Eddie.

And that’s when he saw him entirely. Slouched against an old tattered fireplace, trembling and holding his arm.

His _broken_ arm.

Richie stilled in front of Eddie, the realisation settling in and freezing him. Eddie was his goddamn _soulmate_. Part of him was ringing party bells because what were _the fucking chances?_ The other part, however, was ringing warning signals because they were about to be a clown’s lunch.

After a second or two Bill noticed, looking at Eddie’s arm and then at Richie’s frozen form. His mouth formed a small o shape and they stared at each other for half a second. Both of them not exactly knowing what to do or say.

“R-r-rich?” Bill stuttered out, looking behind Richie’s shoulders. “C-c-could we d-do this later?”

_Right, murder clown before soulmate discovery panic attack._

Richie willed himself out of it and knelt next to Eddie, as he saw It quickly regaining traction and making his way towards them, claws outstretched. Acting on pure instinct, Richie grabbed Eddie’s shirt pulling him closer, trying to shelter him from the incoming attack.   
“No, no, no, no!” Eddie screamed, his lips pulling back in fear. Looking to It and then back at Eddie, Richie cupped his face forcefully and moved his head to face him.

Eddie resisted, trying to turn his head back, but Richie preserved shouting, “Eddie, look at _me_!”

“He’s gonna kill me!” Eddie yelled.   
Frantic, Richie grabbed his face with all of his strength and stared at Eddie in the eyes.

“Look at me!” he screamed as he heard someone smashing the shit out of It.

He watched It slither away out of the blurry corner of his eye. But Richie wasn’t quite ready to move just yet.

Instead, Richie grabbed a hold of Eddie’s face once more, willing the boy to just _look at him_ and see him. See that Richie was here, he loved him, and he would protect him. He was pretty much contractually obligated to now.

But then Eddie started screaming even more. This time, it wasn’t in fear. It was in _pain._ The fear had kept it away for a while, but with It temporarily out of action, the was room now for actual pain. Which also became the focus of Richie’s mind as well. It was overwhelming and he could feel Bill’s eyes on him.

He shook his head fervently and Bill nodded in quiet understanding. Eddie didn’t need this shit right now, and honestly neither did Richie.

The pain was unbearable, and Richie had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from crying or screaming. He repeated a mantra in his head over and over. _It wasn’t real. It was phantom pain. Eddie has the real pain. Focus on Eddie._

Richie knew something was wrong with the break. It wasn’t supposed to look like how it did. Or feel as fucked as it did. He knew he had to do _something_.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Or the shock. Or maybe just plain pure idiocy what Richie decided to do next.

“I’m gonna,” Richie began frenziedly, looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m gonna snap your arm back into place!”

But before he could even finish his sentence, Eddie was staring at him with those big brown doe eyes and screaming, “Rich, do not fucking touch me! Do not touch me!”

Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself for the pain he was about to inflict on Eddie and himself, Richie yelled, “One, two -”

Grasping Eddie’s arm with both hands and exhaling, he called, “Three!” and snapped the arm back into place.

Eddie screeched again at that and Richie not only felt the worst _fucking_ pain of his life, but also the absolute pain of seeing Eddie crying and screaming from something he had inflicted.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” Richie apologised, tears falling from his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Eddie didn’t reply.

He didn’t even look at him as Richie and Bill dragged him out. And he didn’t say a word as they deposited him in the basket of Mike’s bike and rode back into town. Though they were running for their lives, the silence gave Richie time to think. Time to come to terms with Eddie being his soulmate.

He was a wash of conflicting emotions. Happiness for his soulmate actually being _Eddie_. Irritation at how he hadn’t figured out sooner. Sadness for the pain buzzing through his arm that he knew Eddie beared the brunt of.

But it was done now. They were soulmates. And now Richie knew, what was he going to do with that information?

The immediate answer was to _tell Eddie._ It was instinctual. Tell the truth. Rip off the bandaid.

But the more Richie thought about it, the more it made him question everything. What would Eddie think? Would he immediately know that Richie has been in love with him since he could think clearly? What if he wanted to stop being friends? Who would even want the Trashmouth as their soulmate?

Bill kept glancing at him, interrupting his thoughts, and looked almost like he wanted Richie to speak to him about the soulmate business. But if Richie was being honest, he was fucking angry at _Big Bill_. He didn’t want to talk about the soulmate _thing_ – he wanted to talk about how Bill forced them in there and put all of their lives at risk for a fucking clown. All Bill thought about was himself and Georgie.

Which, _fair_ , his kid brother did cark it. But Eddie got hurt and Richie wasn’t thinking clearly.

It was awful when Eddie’s mother came to collect him. She screamed at them for hurting her boy, pointed fingers and made accusations. Richie expected nothing less – from _her_. He expected more from Eddie.

But Eddie just sat there and let it happen. Let his mother slut shame Bev and talk shit to the rest of them. He wouldn’t even make any eye contact with anyone. Just sat there in the car, grasping his arm.

Again, _fair,_ his arm was pretty damn broken. Richie would fucking know. But it still stung, and Richie figured he must’ve been pissed at him for breaking his arm.

Surely, he knew Richie was just trying to do the right thing. He wanted to scream at him, ‘I’m your soulmate numnuts! I know how much it hurts! But I was just trying to help!’

All in all, Richie was ready for a shower, a cry and a lot more deep thinking when Bill brought up _going back_. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Richie fired up in anger. He was about to start shouting but Stan got there first. Screaming about how he was insane. But then Bev got involved, trying to be the heroine again. Even though they were _two fucking seconds_ away from death last time.

Richie’d had enough. He was in pain, a soulmate conundrum and honestly scared to fucking death.

“Eddie was nearly killed!” Richie screamed, before turning to Ben and shouting, “And look at this motherfucker, he’s leaking hamburger helper!”

But _still_ they persisted. _Still_ they tried to convince Richie and the others that they needed to follow that fucker.

“I’m sorry who invited Molly Ringwald into the fucking group?” Richie snapped after another of Bev’s power sentences. Good for her and her strong, powerful woman thing she had going on, but her soulmate didn’t almost die today (or so he thought at the time).

“Richie,” Stan said softly.

“I’m just saying, let’s face facts – real world - Georgie is dead!” Richie yelled directly to Bill. “Stop trying to get us killed too.”

It was a low blow. Richie knew this. But he was beyond pissed at Bill. Pissed that Bill of all people knew how much today fucked with him, but still wanted to push him further.

“Georgie’s not dead!” Bill yelled back as Richie tried to leave, pushing into him.

Backtracking slightly, Richie continued, “You couldn’t save him, but you can still save yourself.”

But Bill continued, pushing him back. It was like he was wanting a fight. Bill was a lanky motherfucker, even lankier than Richie, so he thought surely he could’ve taken him in a second, but he didn’t want Eddie to feel anything else today.

“T-ta-take it back!” Bill shouted. “You t-take it back!”

Bill full on pushed Richie back now, which just made Richie’s blood burn. 

“Fuck off!” Richie yelled pushing Bill away from him.

“Why, Richie?” Bill questioned nastily. “Why d-do you want me to f-f-fuck off?”

Richie narrowed his eyes and shouted, “You fucking know why. Just fuck off.”

The punch landed before Richie could block it. Bill’s fist landed right in his face with a hard knock. He fell to the ground, but Richie didn’t give a shit about himself.   
“You fucking toolbag!” Richie’s teeth were pulled back, snarling at Bill. “You’re a fucking asshole. Don’t fucking touch me again.”

He stalked off, not bothering to hear the rest of Bev’s speech. Bill had pushed it too fucking far this time. Intentionally hurting Richie, even though he knew it hurt Eddie too. Complete wanker.

Richie knew Stan followed closely behind him. He was grateful for Stan’s support and for his silence. Not breaking it until they were out the front of Richie’s door.

“You should really go to a doctor and get some meds,” Stan said, finally.

“Over a punch to the face? Sure, Mrs. K.”

Stan rolled his eyes and said, “No, for the pain in your arm.”

Fuck.

* * *

Eddie was thirteen years old when he figured out he was in love with Richie. He wasn’t sure when it became a thing, when it transitioned from friendship to this puppy love. There hadn’t been a sudden _oh my god I’m in love with Richie_ moment. The feelings came to him like more of an understanding. Something Eddie felt was inevitable.

They’d known each other for so long, it took Eddie a moment to realise the ‘you’re so annoying, but can we still spend every waking moment together’ thoughts he had roughly translated to ‘I am in love with you and your dumb face.’

If he had to pinpoint a moment where he accepted his feelings for what they were, it was when he snapped his arm and faced down a child eater.

Richie had stumbled in, obviously hurt, and taken one look at Eddie and put himself between him and a demon. And then, instead of trying to fight the clown off, Richie had placed a hand on Eddie’s face and started begging him to just look at him. In the face of his own worst fear, Eddie saw that Richie would rather help his best friend than himself and that had in turn cemented his feelings for him.

Even if the fucker did re-break his arm immediately after, which he was in _no way_ trained for, Eddie had to accept that he loved this moron. It was part of the reason Eddie had isolated himself willingly.

His feelings for Richie were something he had desperately tried to hide from, but after Neibolt, he couldn’t. So, at the time Eddie thought the best decision was to detach himself. Aside from the fact that this was _Derry_ and liking other boys was life threatening, Eddie knew Richie and with the amount of sex jokes at women’s expense he made, there was little reason to think Richie felt otherwise.

Besides that, _soulmates_ were also a thing and it was clear Richie wasn’t his. Richie had infamously never heard much from his, which wouldn’t make sense if it were Eddie. Aside from the pneumonia when he was little, the broken arm was something Richie definitely would have felt. Eddie doubted anyone could hide that sort of pain.

The time he’d spent alone, even though it was mostly self-inflicted, was slowly draining the life out of him. A good plan to get away and _get rid_ of his feelings for Richie had turned into an absolute shit show. Eddie had no friends, no bike and no Richie.

Maybe Richie thought he was mad at him. Maybe _he_ was mad at Eddie. Either way, Eddie had still half expected him to at least try to call or stop by. To at least try to see if Eddie was okay.

Eddie was almost starting to think it was better this way. A nice, clean break – unlike his arm. His feelings would dissipate and hopefully the clown would leave him the fuck alone and chow down on some other kid. God knows there were tastier children in Derry. Taller too.

But Eddie should’ve known better than to think _Richie_ of all people would ever leave him alone.

On the seventh night of his seclusion, and on a night where his arm particularly hurt, a loud tap banged against his window and Eddie nearly wet the bed.

As the tapping continued, slowly Eddie grabbed the nearest weapon on his nightstand and tip toed to the window. He was almost there when it cracked open and he was almost body slammed to the ground.

“Fuck!” Eddie screamed, closing his eyes and pressing down on his inhaler.

“What the fuck, Eds?” Richie whisper-yelled with a laugh, hitting the inhaler away. “What were you gonna do puff me to death? What the fuck kind of weapon is that?”

Opening his eyes slowly and immediately narrowing them. He let out a huff of annoyance and tried to ignore the oddly giddy feeling of seeing Richie again.

“This is new,” Eddie said icily. “Breaking and entering, didn’t think you’d hit that level of crime until you were at least sixteen.”

Richie let out a low laugh, “Sixteen? Thanks Eds, didn’t know you thought that highly of me.”

“What are you doing here, Rich? I didn’t think you gave a shit enough to see me.”  
Richie’s eyebrows narrowed, and he snapped, “You’re the one who was pissed at me, Spaghetti Man. Figured it was better to keep my distance. I just came to see if you’re alright. You know, with the arm and everything.”

His heart fluttered at his answer. Though Eddie had _expected_ him to check in, it was nice to hear Richie say it. And to actually be there.

“I’m in lockdown and my inhaler is my only friend, the fuck do you think Rich?” Eddie quipped, trying to hide his actual feelings of discontent.

Richie feigned a look of surprise, placing a hand to his mouth and said, “Just your inhaler? Sweet Eds, don’t let your fanny pack hear you say that!”

Cracking a small smile and pushing the other boy slightly, Eddie scoffed and replied with a raised hand, “That’s not my name and this is not a joke, it feels like I’m in literal jail.”

“I can spring ya, just say the word and the mighty Richie Tozier will save you,” Richie taunted, pinching Eddie’s cheeks together. “I’d do anything for you, cutie.”

His happiness was infectious, and Eddie smiled slightly, but still smacking his hands away lightly.

“Fuck you,” Eddie said lazily.

“How are you though, for real?” Richie asked, suddenly serious. “Do you need some more meds?”

Eddie shook his head and said, “Don’t want to go down there to get some. She’s been insufferable. I don’t want to make it worse by saying I’m actually in pain.”

Richie narrowed his eyes at this, and he looked down, beginning to gently stroke Eddie’s cast just over the ‘LOSER’ Greta had written. He was being so _gentle,_ and it was freaking Eddie out. Was Richie actually sick or something? His stomach was doing backflips and Eddie clenched his other fist, nails biting into his skin.

But then Richie’s eyes snapped back up to Eddie suddenly and he smiled. “Lucky I brought some of these.”

He pulled out some pills in a bottle and Eddie was immediately horrified.

“Stealing Rich? Again, didn’t think I’d see this for another few years.”

“It’s not stealing if you get it from inside your own house, Eds. Duh,” Richie replied with a grin, shoving the pills into Eddie’s hand. “Ole Mags broke her wrist last year. She had some spare. She won’t miss them.”

Tentatively peering at the bottle, the first thing Eddie noticed was that the name had been scribbled out. Pointing at the black lines through the name, Eddie raised his brows.

“Plausible deniability,” Richie winked. “If your mum finds them, you can say you thought they were yours or some shit. I don’t know. Also, the label states all the ingredients and whatever. So, you don’t need to worry if it’s anything stupid.”

Eddie smiled at the odd thoughtfulness of Richie’s gesture.

“Thanks, Rich.”

They fell into a conversation after that, like it hadn’t been a week of no contact. Lying next to each other on Eddie’s small bed, swapping stories of their week. When Richie told him about his and Bill’s fight (negating the whole punch thing, as Eddie would later find out), and Eddie told Richie about how Greta had told him his medications and inhaler were bullshit.

“So your mom just lied to you, your entire life?” Richie questioned. “That’s super fucked up.”

Eddie raised his brows and rolled his eyes, “Yeah no shit, dickhead. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t actually talk to her about it.”

“Why not?”  
“’M scared I guess. Of what she’d do,” Eddie admitted with a slight quiver.

Richie questioned further, “What’s the worst she could do?”

“Lock me up forever. Move me away. Take me to a damn hospital. I don’t know and that’s the point.”

It’s then that Richie moved closer, wrapping his pinky around Eddie’s and whispered gently, “You’re braver than you think, you know.”

A line of what felt like electricity ran directly from his pinky to his heart, which was thudding in his chest so loud he was surprised Richie couldn’t hear it.

Eddie changed the conversation after that, asking Richie about how he was doing in his quest to become the best Street Fighter player in Derry. Richie physically shuddered at the mention of the arcade, and said he probably wasn’t going to keep clear for a few days.

“Why? Did something happen?” Eddie asked, shivering at the memory of his own recent It encounter. “Like did It follow you?”

Richie averted his eyes, a slight red blush rising to his cheeks.

“Rich?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he admitted in one breath. “It was dumb. I was dumb. Just a stupid –“

“ _Richie_.”

He looked up at Eddie and tried to plaster a smile across his face. A dumb joke was coming his way, and Eddie pursed his lips in preparation.

“I’m getting tired Eds,” Richie said abruptly, surprising Eddie. “I’ll come back tomorrow?”

Eddie shook his head and almost yelled, “Are you serious, Richie?”

“What?”

“There’s a child killing clown with a personal vendetta against _us_ strolling about and you want to walk home alone at _this_ time of night? How have you survived this long?” Eddie ranted, pulling his sheets back. “You’re obviously staying here.”

Richie raised his eyebrows and said, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Uh, why?” Eddie stuttered out, panic rising. “I can sleep on the ground if that’s –”

“No! No. I just mean, I’m gross, I haven’t showered since like four,” Richie mumbled. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
Eddie rolled his eyes and replied, “Just get those shoes off and get in here.”

Richie took another second of inner conflict before Eddie all but dragged him into bed.   
It wasn’t until they were tucked in and Richie was dozing that Eddie actually thought about what was happening. That he was currently sleeping next to his long time best friend _after_ realising he felt more than platonically about him. Like every movement Richie made lit his veins up. A slight brush of his lanky leg against Eddie’s was enough to send him into overdrive.

Eddie didn’t sleep that night.

A few weeks later Bill came calling. And Eddie finally threw down with his mother, throwing his bullshit medicine away. Richie’s words ignited his fire and for once, Eddie felt brave as fuck. It was wild, exhilarating, and it was the most un-Eddie thing he had ever done.

That day was unusual for more than one reason. The first being, obviously, the fact that they had to kill a murderous clown.

The second was surprisingly, Stan and Mike were revealed to be soulmates.

It happened too quickly and none of them had time to dwell on it, but when Stan’s face was being chewed on and Mike dropped like a dead fly yelling and holding onto his face, it was pretty obvious. After, as they consoled Stan, Mike held him extra close, but no one knew what to say. It was a conversation for another time. And Stan was too hysterical to be told about a soulmate right that second.

When it came down to facing off with the clown, they all found the strength to stand together. Seeing Stan being chowed on had really revved them up, and if they weren’t all out for blood before, they sure as hell were now.

Richie and Bill, especially, were maniacs. Jumping onto the back of It and trying to tear It down while the rest stood in the wings, ready to attack.

“Rich! Bill!” Eddie yelled, making a move towards the clown to help them, before falling flat on the ground with a sharp pain to his back. When he looked up, he saw Richie and Bill sprawled on the floor. Clambering to get up, Eddie tried to move towards Richie again.

“Rich, are you alright?” he asked Richie tentatively, holding his arm tightly.

Richie looked at him with worried eyes and immediately replied, “Are you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Impossible,” Richie said softly before getting up and ready to take on It again.

When It got Bill, Eddie really thought it was all over. Not a chance in the world were they getting out of this alive.

But Richie – Richie was fucking fearless.

For a second, Eddie thought he really might be selling out Bill. Taking the clown up on the offer to leave Bill and save themselves.

But he should’ve known better.

“And now? I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown.”

Eddie’s heart burned with pride and affection for Richie at his words, more so than ever before.

“Welcome to the Losers club asshole!” he screamed, smashing the bat into It’s face.

They all took turns after that. With It struggling to keep up his appearances as everyone’s worst nightmare.

Getting vomited on by a leper really did something to lit him up and after vomiting himself (and missing how Richie vomited directly after), Eddie kicked the clown so fucking hard it hurt his foot.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” he screamed so loudly he thought his ears were going to burst.

It was over pretty quickly after that.

In the days that followed, Eddie became more confident about standing up to his mother. And when she tried to stop him from meeting up with his friends, he simply walked out of the door. He was never abandoning them again.

They sat together now, sort of peacefully. Though they were talking about the very real possibility of It returning, there was an air of comfort in being together. Richie was grinning at him, Bev smiling shyly, Stan and Mike sneaking glances at each other. They had The Conversation shortly after the sewers and were navigating the whole soulmate thing as best as thirteen-year olds could. Stan had responsibly decided that they should continue getting to know each other and Mike had dutifully agreed. It was Derry and they were only 13. They had a lifetime to figure their relationship out.

Eventually, Bill brought up making a blood pact with a piece of glass and Eddie instinctively froze up.

His mind raced with a million thoughts about pain, his soulmate, germs, blood – the works, before Richie chimed in knowing Eddie as well as he knew himself.

“Bill let Eddie go first will you,” Richie suggested. “You know hygiene and all.”

Bill nodded and Eddie whispered with a surge of affection, “Thanks Rich.”

The cut was deep and stung like hell, and when another round of pain came shortly after Eddie didn’t think twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are like crack to fanfic authors!! validate me please!!


	3. i'm just a teenage dirt bag baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15/16 and mainly richie POV because i decided to split the chapters up (which is why the chapter count went up!)
> 
> title from 'teenage dirtbag' by wheatus

At fifteen years old, Richie had managed to keep The Soulmate Thing from Eddie for two years. Which was a shitty move, he’ll freely admit. But at the time he convinced himself it was necessary.

It was pretty simple really - all he had to do was not get hurt and convince Bill and Stan to keep it to themselves. The first part hadn’t been too difficult but learning to actually watch where he was walking had taken _a while._ Convincing Bill and Stan to keep his secret, however, was not an easy task.

After defeating the clown, they’d sat him down in the clubhouse and had a ‘strong’ word with Richie about telling Eddie.

_“I just think Eddie has a right to know,” Stan stated with his arms crossed._

_Bill had nodded along, and agreed, “At t-t-the t-time, I understood. B-but th-there is no reason to k-k-keep it from him n-now.”_

_Richie had rolled his eyes and buried himself further into the hammock, which faintly smelt like Eddie’s socks. Gross, but endearing._

_“I just need some time to break it to him, you know,” Richie grumbled._

_“I don’t understand Rich. I thought you would be happy it was him?” Stan asked gently._

_Richie could feel his throat swell up and his stomach drop. He hadn’t admitted his feelings for Eddie out loud to anyone yet. Of course, they both knew about the connection, but Richie hadn’t plainly confessed to loving Eddie. And the panic about his ongoing feelings for Eddie had not subsided, in fact they had only grown since Neibolt._

_Swallowing hard, Richie said quickly, “Just because I’m …_ happy _, doesn’t mean he will be_ happy _.”_

_They stayed quiet for a long time, and Richie just prayed they understood what he meant by being_ happy _and wouldn’t probe further._

_“I d-don’t want to l-lie to Eddie,” Bill finally said. “It’s w-wrong.”_

_Crushing guilt had filled Richie, and deep down he knew it was wrong to hide it. But the thought of telling Eddie felt worse at the time than asking his friends to keep this secret._

_“If Mike had kept it from me, I would be more than annoyed,” Stan grumbled before adding, “And I’m reasonable. Eddie is a literal feral dog when he wants to be.”_

_Richie snapped his head up and grinned ear to ear, before he channelled the British guy and stated, “That’s my soulmate you’re talking about there, good sir! I’ll have you know that’s my feral dog now, courtesy of our good friend, the Universe.”_

_“R-rich.”_

_“Just give me a month or two. We just dealt with a fucking child eating clown and Eddie’s mom is still crazy right now. He doesn’t need this shit as well.”_

_“A month or two, then you’ll tell him?” Stan asked, narrowing his eyes._

_“Swear on Eddie’s mom’s life.”_

It was a good thing Richie didn’t give a shit about Eddie’s mom’s life, because here he was two years later, and Eddie was still none the wiser. Stan and Bill were pissed of course, but Richie had always managed to swing an excuse.

_Finals are coming up. His mom is on the warpath again. I just don’t feel ready._ Etc. Etc.

Of course, the thought of just telling Eddie had crossed Richie’s mind. Numerous times. Even without the constant reminders by Stan and Bill. He knew logically that the majority of his issues could be resolved by plucking up the courage and growing the balls to just say, “Hey Eds, turns out you’re my soulmate. I’ve kept it from you for years! Sorry about that. Wanna fall in love now?”

But he knew _exactly_ how that conversation would go. It would involve a lot of yelling, raised hands and speeches that Richie could only make out parts of.

It also didn’t help that every time he even considered confessing to Eddie, a nervous barf would come up and he was forced to push it away.

The nervous barfs started around the same time It went away, which was really becoming a distant memory that Richie found hard to remember anymore. Eddie went on a big spiel once, saying that it was probably all of them trying to repress traumatic memories or some shit.

The first time the barfs had happened they had just returned from the school year, and someone had thought putting up red balloons all over the hallways after lunch was a great idea. One step into the hallway and Richie had projectile vomited all over the floor.

_Bill and Ben had shouted, “Richie! What the hell?!”_

_Stan had raised his eyebrows and Bev had run back into the cafeteria to get some napkins to wipe the mess up._

_And Eddie – well, Eddie had matched Richie’s barf with an even bigger one._

_Richie thought it was all over red rover. He’d lasted what, six months? He thought he’d had a good run._

_“Eds, are you alright?” Richie asked, ignoring Bill and Stan’s pointed look that said ‘this is karma for not telling him sooner.’ Richie felt another barf coming up at the thought of Eddie realising, but suppressed it with every fibre of his being._

_Eddie just stared at him, raised his hand and said, “I just vomited out my favourite sandwich, you asshole.”_

_“Why did you vomit too?” Ben asked. “That’s weird.”_

_“The sight of Richie’s vomit was enough,” Eddie answered casually. “The sight of Richie is usually enough though.”_

_Richie laughed hard after that._

Ever since then, when a nervous barf came up – due to a Spaghetti involved incident or not – Richie made sure to distance himself or swallow it in general.

Because what doesn’t show love like swallowing vomit?

Soulmate secrets aside, hiding his actual feelings for Eddie was the hardest thing of all. And he suspected he didn’t do a very good job at it. Lingering eyes and all.

In his defence, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Eddie was annoyingly cute and seemed to always lean into whatever level of affection or harassment Richie dealt him.

Though the whole fucked up situation was mostly of his own doing, Richie couldn’t help but feel bitter. Bitter towards the whole notion of having a soulmate. Bitter towards his four of his best friends who were soulmates and had it all figured out. And honestly what the fuck were the chances of that? Yes, it was scientifically proven that soulmates had a magnetic like effect on each other, but six out of seven in a friend group? Surely, they were an anomaly.

In an ideal world, Richie would’ve proudly gone up to Eddie at thirteen and announced that they were soulmates. In an ideal world, Richie would have been overjoyed at not only having met his soulmate, but also being _best fucking friends_ with him.

But this was not an ideal world, and Richie Tozier was scared. Scared of loving Eddie. Scared of putting a target on both of their heads. Scared of if Eddie would even _want_ to be his soulmate. Sure, platonic soulmates are a thing, and if that’s what Eddie wanted than absolutely Richie would be okay with it. Anything Eddie would give him; Richie would lap it up. But Richie was _in love_ with him. And not the love he felt when he was thirteen and carved their initials deep into the wood of the kissing bridge - this love was deeper and harder to ignore.

It didn’t help that Richie slept in Eddie’s room (in his goddamn _bed_ ) on occasion, both citing nightmares. And even though Richie got _less_ sleep on those nights, he never said no. It was self-destructive and wasn’t good for Richie’s emotional state, but Richie wasn’t about to give it all up.

Unluckily for Richie, his inner crisis about The Soulmate Thing had only been amplified at fifteen. Apparently, soulmates were once again a hot topic and he was surrounded by a bunch of teenage idiots on a mission to find out who their soulmate was. It was the running trend at school. Everyone was at the age where they wanted to start being ‘serious’ girlfriends and boyfriends, and everyone wanted it to be with their soulmate. Richie even saw a few girls pretend to be hurt, just to get the guy they liked to be with them.

“Honestly, why are teenagers such dickheads?” Richie asked one lunchtime. “We have our whole lives for soulmates, why do you need to know now?”

“I agree Richie, people can be really ridiculous about soulmates,” Stan said, narrowing his eyes at Richie.

Richie returned the favour and picked at his food.

“That’s easy for you to say Stan,” Bev replied. “You’ve been set with your soulmate for two years. Some people aren’t as lucky as us.”

Stan smiled slyly, pointed at the scars around his face and said, “Don’t blame me, blame the clown.”

The group visibly shuddered at the thought. 

“Come on guys,” Ben replied, trying to lighten the mood. “I think it’s kinda beautiful. That everyone has a _person_ out there just for them.”

Richie ignored the way Ben’s eyes flittered to Beverly’s. It was so much easier for them. It hadn’t taken them years to figure it out and Bev had only waited a few months to tell Ben. They’d been together ever since. Much to Bill’s dismay. But who could argue with literal true love?

Richie feigned a vomit and said, “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

Eddie remained silent, but he always was when it came to the matter of soulmates. His eyebrows were narrowed slightly, and he was sort of playing with his food. Something Eddie did not like to do because of all the cross contamination from particles in the air. Or something along those lines.

“What about you, Eds?” Richie asked tentatively.

Eddie lifted his head slowly and replied, “Well aren’t you curious, Richie?”

“Don’t need to be curious, I know who my soulmate is,” Richie said with a mischievous smile, feeling Bill and Stan staring at him wildly. But he didn’t look at them directly. He was too busy waiting to see if Eds would take the bait.

“What!? Who’s your soulmate?” Eddie shrieked, dropping his fork in his food.

Hook, line and sinker.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Richie asked, mouth open and a look of false surprise plastered on his face. “God Mrs. K’s always keeping secrets from you, Eds.”

A grin spread across his face as he received groans from the group. Stan in particular shot him a Look. They all looked thoroughly disappointed Richie hadn’t actually gone through with it. But Richie was pleased with himself. He was just trying to bring some levity to this shit.

Eddie’s face was scrunched together, glaring at Richie and he grumbled, “You’re not funny, you know.”

“Knew it from the first time I saw Mrs. K. She was the one for me,” Richie joked, slinging an arm around Eddie casually.

Eddie raised his hand in the cute little way he did whenever he was mad and said, “God, Richie! You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Stan asked dryly. “That’s generous.”  
Putting a hand to his head and feigning offence, Richie joked, “Staniel isn’t there some birds to be watching, aside from the ones sitting in this cafeteria.”

“Richie, I’m with one of your best friends,” Stan deadpanned. “Show some respect.”

The day Bev found out about The Soulmate Thing, was the day it all began to come crashing down and Richie knew it.

They were sitting outside smoking and ditching class, because Richie was an A student and Bev hated gym, when _it_ happened.

“Jesus fuck,” Richie mumbled breathlessly, coughing on his cigarette, after something smacked right against his stomach and he lost his breath.  
“Rich?” Bev asked. “I told you not to breathe in that deeply.”

Richie just shook his head and held his stomach and choked out, “Can’t breathe.”

A feeling of alarm swept over him, and a flashback of Neibolt ran through his mind.

_Is Eds hurt?_

“Richie? What’s going on?”

But he couldn’t reply, his palms were getting sweaty and he could feel his heart thudding against his chest.

“I need to… go,” he choked out, getting on two feet and practically running towards the gym, where he knew Eddie would be.

Bev was hot on his tail, calling his name. But Richie knew Eddie was in trouble and images of him being beaten up or worse invaded his thoughts, stopping him from thinking logically.

Richie burst through the two white doors of the gym and all but crashed into a very intense dodgeball game. He scanned the gym and saw Eddie standing to the sidelines, hunched over, holding his chest and visibly struggling to breathe.

“Richie, w-what are you d-doing here?” Bill called from the middle of the game, quickly adding with his brows raised, “You just missed Eddie g-getting w-wiped out for the f-f-first time ever!”

_Fuck._

He immediately felt like an idiot. And he immediately knew he’d blown his cover with Bev. Turning back to face her, she was leaning against the door with a knowing smile.

Eddie’s head perked up at the sound of Bill calling his name and Richie avoided his eyes. He tried to make his way back out of the gym unnoticed, but luck was not on his side for the second time that day.

“Mr Tozier! You are _more_ than tardy to this class,” the teacher called across the room. “I’ll see you in detention this afternoon. And you too, Miss Marsh.”

_Double fuck_.

The walk back from detention that afternoon was more than awkward. Even more awkward than when Richie made a run for it after gym. Bev kept glancing at him but was trying to do the good friend thing where they try and let you do the talking.

Talking is never an issue for Richie, but now he was lost for words.

He knew she’d sort of known about his feelings for Eddie for a while. She never said anything, but she did give Richie a few _looks_ here and there that said, ‘I know what’s going on here’.

“So,” Richie started, shooting Bev a lazy grin. “I’m actually sort of pissed we missed dodgeball. We could’ve destroyed them.”

“Stop avoiding the elephant in the room.”

Gasping dramatically and placing a hand on his heart, Richie joked, “I’ll be sure to tell Eddie that’s what you think of him.”

“So, it is Eddie then," Bev remarked gently. "Interesting."

Richie nodded, but remained silent.

It all seemed to be crumbling down, a domino effect if you will. Bill and Stan knew, and he assumed Mike did as well by extension of Stan. And now Bev knew. Which means Ben would know.

Only one domino left.

“You know he’s going to figure it out sooner or later,” Bev replied casually, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. “Are you going to be prepared to have that conversation when he does?”

“Oh, why yes, Miss Marsh, I am totally prepared to tell one of my best friends that we’re tied together for life through a literal Universe granted bond,” Richie bantered back, hiding his discomfort. “Eddie will be just so pleased to have _me_ to annoy him forever.”

Bev laughed again, before adding, “I think the universe matched you two together because you’re both too damn annoying to be with anybody else.”

“Touché.”

“I’m assuming you’ve known since Neibolt,” she continued. “Unless you somehow didn’t feel that broken bone?”

Richie grunted and nodded his head.

“Why haven’t you told him?” she asked. “I know it’s hard and that it can take some time. But he deserves to know.”

Biting his lip, Richie mumbled, “There’s a few reasons. Most of which are cop outs. But mostly I’m scared Bevvie. Of his reaction. Of how _he_ feels about having someone like _me_ be his soulmate.”

“Eddie thinks the sun shines out of your ass, Richie,” Bev replied. “Anyone with two working eyes can see that.”

“Ha ha. You know full well I don’t have two working eyes,” Richie quipped pointing to his glasses. “And he just puts up with me and my bullshit.”

Bev scoffed loudly and stood in front of Richie with her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“Rich, _we_ put up with your bullshit. Eddie _enjoys_ it.”

A beat passed, and Richie still didn’t quite believe her, “I don’t know if he enjoys it in the same way I do.”

“What do you mean?” Bev asked, though she sounded like she already knew.

Biting his lip and fumbling with his shirt, Richie admitted quietly, “I – uh, I love him you know.”

Bev didn’t respond, just chucked him a sly smile and got out of his way so they could keep walking.

“Well go on,” she pressed gently.

“And that’s another reason I’m scared. I’m scared he doesn’t love me back and I’m scared to even love another boy in this shitty town. I’m scared that we will have a giant target on our back if this ever gets out.”

Bev stopped abruptly again and said, “Rich, there is _nothing_ wrong with loving Eddie. You’re right - this town is small and shitty and hateful, but don’t let the fear wipe out the love. And I can’t tell you if Eddie loves you back because I’m not Eddie, but I can tell you as one of his best friends that you need to tell him _everything_.”

“But what if it’s too late to tell him now?” Richie asked as they approached Bev’s apartment she shared with her aunt.

“It’s not too late until he finds out on his own,” Bev replied sternly. “So get your head out of your ass.”

Fair.

* * *

Eddie Kaspbrak was sixteen years old when he found out Richie damn Tozier was his soulmate. He’d spent his whole life worrying about it, _stressing_ about hurting them, only for them to be right fucking in front of him the whole time. And for it to be Richie of all people.

Richie, his dumbass best friend. Richie, who he’d been in love with for _years_. 

Honestly, Eddie was pretty pissed it took him this long to find out and he was pretty pissed that Richie knew about it first. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t found out the first time they went to Neibolt, when Richie had somehow concealed the pain of a broken arm. Irritation aside, for that Eddie had to applaud Richie for being a motherfucking champion.

But Richie concealing his pain also made it clear to Eddie that he _knew_ about them being soulmates and hadn’t said a word for years. Two and a half years at the very least. And Eddie figured he must have active efforts to be careful, because in those two and a half years Eddie had felt barely anything at all.

Until he did.

“Eds let me up!” he heard a stray voice from below his house yell. “I’m sorry I called you an angry kitten. You’re just so cute when you’re mad.”

Eddie stifled a chuckle and strode over to the window, “At least I’m not a jackass.”

Richie flashed him the big toothy grin that he knew Eddie loved and started climbing up.

Opening the window, Eddie crawled back into bed. This remained a regular occurrence, and whilst Eddie still felt guilty about sharing a bed, he made sure to try and stay on his side. But he often woke up with a limb or two of Richie’s stretched out over him. Sometimes, Richie even cocooned himself against Eddie’s back. Which of course, sent him into a tailspin of _feelings_.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Richie asked, sliding under the covers and taking his glasses off.

Eddie scoffed and said, “I’m only playing because Ben asked me. Which was a dirty move by the way, you know I can’t resist his puppy dog eyes.”

“It is a talent of his,” Richie said, smiling. “You’ll be fine. I’ll even pick you first.”

“I know I’m not the best…”  
Richie raised his brows and stated firmly, “Well no, but you’re my little pocket rocket Eddie. And I always pick you first.”

Shoving him in the side, Eddie turned over trying to conceal his grin. He heard Richie sigh and turn over, so his nose was practically up against Eddie’s back.

“Now go to sleep, we got a match to win tomorrow.”

The next day, the Losers had planned to play a friendly game of baseball, or as friendly as it could be with Stan and Richie as Captains on opposing teams.

“You’re going down, Stanley,” Richie taunted as the coin was tossed. “They’re gonna have to clean you up off the field.”

Stan sighed and said, “You say that everytime, but still lose. It’s actually getting a bit boring, Richie. Maybe you need to up your game for once.”

Richie glared at him after that before scanning his eyes over the rest of the Losers.

“Heads!” Ben called. “Richie has first pick.”

Eddie stood there quietly with a small smile, as Richie turned his head and grinned widely at Stan.  
“Up my game you said, Stan?” Richie taunted. “Mikey, get over here!”

“WHAT?!” Eddie and Stan yelled at the same time.

His stomach had dropped, and he knew his face was twisted up into something nasty. What a dick.

“You can’t do that, he’s my –” Stan began before Richie cut him off.

“Please Staniel, don’t try and pull the soulmate card on me,” Richie argued, putting his hands up in surrender. “Mikey is fair game.”

Eddie scoffed and said angrily, “Shut up Richie. You’re an asshole.”

“Aw Eds, are you angry with me?” Richie asked, pouting with a grin. “I promise to pick you next. You’re still my pocket rocket.”

“I’m not your anything Richie, shut the fuck up.”

Stan stood there for a second after their exchange, looking at Eddie and then back at Richie with a mischievous grin.

“Alright, I won’t use _my_ soulmate card,” Stan said, with a bite Eddie didn’t quite understand. “Eddie, won’t you join me?”

Shooting Richie another murderous glare, Eddie sneered, “Gladly.”

The thing was, Richie promising Eddie he would choose him first was a big deal, because Eddie was _not_ a good player. Though Eddie wasn’t _not_ athletic; he liked to run and play soccer but something about the bat and ball really did not click inside his brain.

Plus, Richie always chose him first. It was like tradition.

The game was off to a quick start after that, with Eddie being the second to bat after Stan. He’d barely made it to first base on his first swing, even with Richie deliberately going easy on him – though he’d never admit it. But here he was, lounging on his base waiting for Ben to hit the ball. Ben who was also not a great player.

Stan had really fucked himself by choosing Eddie first, because now Richie had Mike _and_ Bill. Even with Bev opting to just field for both teams, but Richie’s team clearly had the upper hand.

Even though Richie’s throws weren’t all too flash, they were decent enough that Eddie’s team could actually hit them, and his team could field them.

“Strike one!” Bev called, as the ball sailed into her mitt behind Ben.

Richie cocked his head and smiled brightly, before taunting, “Come on Haystack, you’re making it too easy.”

“Beep beep! No trashing my team!” Stan yelled from fourth base.

“Nothing like a little healthy competition, Stanley!” Richie replied before angling back towards Ben. “Ready, Haystack?”

Ben nodded and yelled, “Ready as I’ll ever be!”

It was a surprise to everyone when Richie pitched a dodgy ball, that Ben actually managed to clumsily hit it hard.

But it was an even bigger surprise when it landed right between Richie’s legs.

Eddie watched it happen in slow motion, almost grinning at the trajectory of the ball, before it hit Richie. But upon impact, he was not grinning. He was suddenly in a world of pain.

He let out a low groan and dropped to his knees, matching Richie. 

“What the fuck!” Eddie yelled, looking around for _anything_ that could’ve hit him.

But there was nothing. Nothing but a bunch of frozen sixteen year olds with their mouths hanging open.

“Wait,” Eddie said, the pieces falling into place. He looked at Richie’s half-hunched over position and at his own. “ _What the fuck?_ ”

He _felt_ what was going on here. Right in his aching fucking balls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to everyone who has commented/kudosed/bookmarked so far. literally got me weak!!! let me know what you think of this one. 
> 
> ps please don't ask me how baseball works with this many people - it just ... does ok.


	4. you're sixteen, you're beautiful and you're mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sweet 16 baby!!!!
> 
> chapter count going up again bc i can't control myself!! love that.
> 
> TW: underage drinking. 
> 
> title from "you're sixteen you're beautiful (and you're mine)" by ringo starr. (which is real weird that this is an actual song)

Sixteen year old Eddie Kaspbrak had gone through a lot of rough shit in his life. But he can hand on his heart say this one may take the cake.

His father dying traumatically at a young age? Worse things could happen.

A clown that makes an entrée of small children? No sweat.

Being fed false medications by his crazy mom and developing severe hypochondria as a result? He’s working through it.

But his best friend (and fucking _soulmate_ ) lying to him for years for reasons he could not even begin to understand? Absolutely the worst thing his teenage mind could fathom.

As he kept his eyes trained on Richie’s grief-stricken face, Eddie couldn’t pinpoint a singular emotion he was feeling. He was stuck in a puddle of anger, sadness, happiness and frustration. Basically, the human representation of four different coloured crayons scribbled across a page.

His balls also really, _really_ fucking hurt. Even if it was a strange phantom sensation.

The field was silent. No one had made a move in at least two full minutes. Richie had lifted himself up but made no steps towards Eddie.

Everyone was waiting on him, he realised. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Eddie finally asked coldly, standing up abruptly. “Please tell me this is a fucking joke.”

But Richie remained silent, never averting his eyes from Eddie’s.

“What, for once in your fucking life you have nothing to say?”

Walking over to Richie, Eddie reached out his arm to touch him, to confirm it. But Richie quickly drew his arm back into him and promptly tripped over his own two feet. Straight onto his ass.

Eddie felt the slight twinge of pain on his tailbone and it was _done._ More than confirmed. Richie Tozier was his soulmate _._

“How long?” Eddie questioned fiercely.

Richie finally looked away from him, standing up again but keeping his distance from Eddie.

“Eds,” he said softly, eyes trained on the ground.

“ _How long?_ ” Eddie asked again, more sternly.

“When you broke your arm,” Richie whispered.

Two and a half years.

He’d known for _two and a half years_ and never said a word.

Betrayal ran through his body like venom and Eddie was too worked up to control himself.

Snapping his head around to his friends, Eddie spat, “Who else knew? Who else did Richie decide to tell before me?”

They all looked at each other with knowing glances. And that was all the confirmation Eddie needed. Not only had Richie lied to him, but every single one of his friends had as well. Lies of omission. Lies to help Richie _keep_ lying.

Eddie stepped back, his head pounding and his internal walls building at lightspeed. Placing his head in his hands, he tried to blink away the tears of anger. The last thing he wanted was for them all to see him cry about this. He didn’t want their pity. He wanted not to be fucking lied to for _years_.

“It’s not their fault. I asked them not to say anything,” Richie said. “I wanted –“

Eddie scoffed again and yelled, “Wanted what? To tell me yourself? To let me down gently? Good fucking chance.”

“No! That’s not it.”

Again, Eddie scoffed and dropped his hands to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” Richie said gently, tentatively stepping closer to him and reaching his arms out before Eddie put up a warning hand between them.

“Don’t touch me,” Eddie said coldly.

He watched as Richie’s face dropped even further, and he saw a stray tear falling from his eyes. His heart burned at the sight, but his anger at Richie overrode any other feelings towards him.

“I’m going home, don’t – just don’t follow me,” Eddie stated with an icy glare. “No one. I mean it, you can all fuck off.”

There was a chorus of protests from the others, but he ignored them all moving quickly towards his bike.

He didn’t know if he was being dramatic or not. Whether this amount of anger was justified.

But all Eddie did know was that he had gotten everything he’d ever wanted and in the same breath lost it again.

When he arrived home, his face was streaked with tears and nose red from rubbing it. He was a hot mess and he’d lasted two minutes before his mother found him.

“Eddie-bear, what on Earth! Are you sick? I knew letting you go to the fields would make your allergies play up,” she said, rising from her seat to inspect Eddie closer.

He backed away from her, and stated solemnly, “Please, Mom. I’m fine. I just need sleep.”

She wasn’t convinced, however, and it wasn’t long before he was tucked in bed with a dozen medicines around him. She was sure he had a fever. He couldn’t be fucked arguing.

When he was finally allowed some reprieve, it was almost 6pm and Eddie still hadn’t quite come to terms with everything.

And the anger had slowly morphed into sadness.

He wondered what reasons Richie could have for not telling him. They told each other everything (except for his huge gay love). There was no one else in the world Eddie trusted more than Richie. If Eddie had found out, he would’ve told Richie straight away. No matter the implications. Because he _deserved_ to know.

But the thought that maybe Richie didn’t want Eddie to be his soulmate ran through his mind. Maybe Richie didn’t see him like that and was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to have a romantic soulmate. Maybe Richie was trying to spare Eddie’s feelings. He had denied that ‘letting him down gently’ wasn’t the reason, but how could Eddie be sure he wasn’t lying about that too?

Deep down, he knew most of his worries was the anxiety talking, but Eddie couldn’t shake the thoughts.

Why would Richie want someone like Eddie to be his soulmate? He was firstly, _a boy_ and secondly, he was pretty damn annoying. With all his ramblings and hypochondria. Even though Richie was probably the only person _more_ annoying than him, Eddie could see why he wouldn’t want him as a soulmate.

The next day his mother insisted he stay in bed to rest and recover, and Eddie didn’t fight it. This was rare nowadays, ever since he found out about her lies, and he was sure she was probably having a party with Eddie’s compliance for once.

He was trying (and failing) to finish his English essay when Eddie felt a sudden pinch on his thigh. Followed shortly by a deep pressure that wasn’t painful, but uncomfortable.

It was _strange_. And enraging.

All of the rage he thought he’d begun to process rose within Eddie again and he slapped his thigh hard, leaving a red mark.

He couldn’t believe the nerve of Richie, to try and communicate through _that_.

A few minutes later a tapping began at his window.

“For fucks sake,” he grumbled rising from his chair.

Peeking through the slightly open curtains, Eddie saw Richie standing at the bottom of his house silently asking to be let in. His expression was something he’d only ever seen once or twice, all sad puppy dog eyes and pouty bottom lip. He wasn’t even wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Just a dull, plain yellow t shirt.

_He must really be going through it_ , Eddie thought as he stared.

If he wasn’t so pissed, he’d feel bad for him.

Instead of opening his blinds, Eddie grabbed a piece of paper and wrote _GO THE FUCK AWAY_ in huge letters before sticking it up on the window.

The tapping stopped for a second before he heard a faint, “Eddie I’m blind as shit! I can’t see that and I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

Grumbling to himself and ripping the curtain open, Eddie glared down at him and slowly brought the window up.

“I don’t wanna fucking talk, Richie!” Eddie yelled down at him raising his hand in frustration. “I want to be left alone. Respect my boundaries.”

“Spaghetti come on,” Richie pleaded, dropping the rocks in his hand. “Let me explain.”

Eddie shook his head furiously and looked up to the corner of the window before stating, “I don’t need you to explain how you don’t want to be soulmates. I get it. I do. Trust me, I feel the same. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

The words kind of dribbled out of Eddie’s mouth like poison. All of the hurt and anger smashed together in five sentences worth of shit and lies to make Richie feel bad. And it worked, Richie’s face fell harder than Eddie thought possible.

But before he could take it all back and embarrass himself further, Eddie slammed the window shut and closed the curtains.

Monday came before Eddie could even decide on how he was going to approach the situation at school. Little did he know the other Losers had already devised a plan.

“Eddie-bear, I didn’t know you were walking with your friends to school today,” his mother called.

Rolling his eyes, he yelled back down, “You can tell Richie to go away.”

“Not Richie!” came a sweet voice from the door.

_Ben?_ The fuck.

Grabbing his bag, Eddie quickly ran to the front door and was confronted with Ben _and_ Mike. Both staring at him with gentle eyes and sweet smiles.

“Remember straight home, Eddie. You’re not over your sickness,” his mother said narrowing her eyes at Ben and Mike.

Grumbling an okay, Eddie stepped outside and began walking. Not bothering to wait for the others.

“Eddie! Will you wait up!” Mike half yelled.

“Nope.”

They caught up quickly, what with Eddie’s small fucking legs. He cursed under his breath and kept his eyes on the ground.

“Can we talk?” Ben asked gently.

“Nope.”

Mike stood in front of him and before he could walk around him, softly grabbed his shoulder and admitted, “We didn’t know, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to his and he muttered, “Really?”

“Bev and Stan knew, yes, and Richie must have assumed they told us,” Ben explained. “But we didn’t know anything.”

Well that was two lots of anger he could transfer elsewhere. He was relieved to know that not all of his friends were liars.

“Then you must be in agreement with me. Richie is a douchebag and an asshole and I want nothing do with him.”

“Bit late for that,” Mike joked.

Shooting him a glare, Eddie continued walking. They walked alongside him, trying to get him to talk more.

“I get being mad. I was mad at Bev when I found out she had kept it from me. It’s only natural to feel betrayed,” Ben said, gripping his bag tighter. “But I gave her the chance to explain and after that I understood.”

Eddie scoffed and snapped, “Yeah but she told you after what, two months? Less? Richie had _two and a half years_.”

“True, but if you’d just let him explain- ” Mike began before Eddie cut him off and continued.

“And he didn’t even _tell_ me. I found out. Huge fucking difference.”

They were both quiet at that and they walked in silence for a while before Mike piped up again.

“What Richie did was wrong and no one is denying that, Eddie. And of course, you should be angry. Truth be told, we are all angry with Richie. We all think he handled this really poorly.”

Ben picked up where Mike left off, “He owes you an explanation, and I think you should hear it.”

Eddie didn’t reply to that. Mike and Ben were always so fucking reasonable and nice. Which was why they were one hundred percent sent this morning to try and calm Eddie down.

It was a good play, but not quite good enough.

They had some decent points, and eventually Eddie would let Richie explain. But right now he was letting his anger control him.

“Thank you for walking with me,” Eddie said as they approached the gates and then turned to Mike. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to leave the farm.”

“We’re here for you. See you at the clubhouse this afternoon?” Mike asked.

Doubtful.

The whole morning, Eddie had barely looked up. From his shoes, his locker or his textbook. He knew if he did, he’d see Richie’s dumb, sad face and his resolve would crumble.

But at lunch it was unavoidable.

Eddie saw him sitting at their usual table next to Bev, playing with his food. He noticed the empty spot next to him but opted for the spot next to Stan on the other side.

“Hey Eddie,” Stan greeted with a small, guilty smile. “How are you?”

Eddie shot him a look and said, “How the fuck do you think?”

The rest of lunch was excruciatingly slow, with Eddie avoiding Richie’s sad eyes and Bev, Bill and Stan’s guilty ones.

Richie was the first to leave, muttering a quiet goodbye and getting up.

Then the onslaught happened. The three zeroing in on Eddie and all talking at once.

“We’re so sorry!”

“I tried to get him to tell you.”

“It w-was so w-wrong of us.”

Eddie shut his eyes and put his head in his hands before speaking.

“I really don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. “You all lied to me.”

They sat in silence before Bev finally spoke up, “Come on, Ed. It wasn’t our place.”

“Stan and I t-tried to g-get Richie to t-t-tell you since N-neibolt,” Bill begun. “He always h-had an excuse.”

“We could have tried harder and we are sorry, Eddie,” Stan countered, with that stupid sensible, old man type tone that he had.

Bev put her arm tentatively around Eddie’s shoulders, and said, “Please don’t hate us. We want to be there for you.”

Eddie hated how he suddenly felt obligated to forgive them. They were being too nice. Too rational. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“I just need some time.”

And time he was granted.

* * *

Richie is sixteen and he’s drunk. Drunk as an absolute skunk. Bill had asked him to come to a senior party with him on a Friday night, and who was Richie to say no to a good time?

God knew he needed it. Ever since _The Eddie Thing_ , Richie had felt like he was barely present in his life. Going through the motions.

He’d expected the anger from Eddie. He’d even expected that he didn’t want Richie as his soulmate. But something about hearing the words come out of his mouth really did smash Richie’s heart into the ground.

And what was worse is that in the month that had passed, Eddie had forgiven the others. One by one. But he had completely shut Richie out. Eddie didn’t acknowledge him other than to be polite. He never hung out with him alone. He didn’t even look Richie’s way.

Not only did Eddie not want to be soulmates – he also didn’t want to be friends at all.

It was Richie’s worst nightmare on crack.

So now here Richie was, doing shots and hanging off some junior girl with short blonde hair who had been trying to get with him all night. Drunk Richie supposed he could just let loose and have some fun with her, even if he was gay and in love with someone else. But every time he almost leaned in, Eddie’s mousy brown eyes drifted into his brain and he pulled back with a smile.

“Richie!” Bill yelled from across the room, walking over to him. “A-are you alright?”

Nodding his head and leaning into the girl, who he now remembered was named Jean, Richie garbled, “Look at me Bill, got a cute girl on my arm, drink in my hand – I’m having the time of my life.”

Bill raised his brows slightly, gestured to Jean and asked, “Are you s-s-sure that’s a good idea?”

“A great idea,” he slurred back, slurping on his drink and smiling at Jean brightly who giggled in response. “Step aside, Big Bill. The night is young and Trashmouth is trashed.”

As the hours passed, people kept feeding him drinks and by the time it came to ten o’clock, his curfew, Richie was on the dancefloor with his hands up getting half grinded on by Jean. He knew he was being sloppy, but the more he drank the more he forgot about Eddie.

He rested his hands on Jean’s waist and moved to the beat, barely even registering the song that was playing.

Jean moved her head up to Richie’s and leaned in suddenly, her lips almost capturing his until the sound of a very disgruntled, “Richie!” broke his trance.

Snapping his head over to the direction of the voice, Richie dropped his arms and jumped three feet back from Jean.

“Eds?” Richie slurred, convinced he was hallucinating Eddie stomping over to him, arms crossed. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Who’s this?” Eddie questioned, looking over at Jean.

Richie smiled lazily, before replying, “This is Jean.”

Eddie narrowed his eyebrows and turned to Richie, angrily spitting, “Bill called me and asked me if I could please take you home. Let’s go Rich.”

“No need, _Eds_ ,” Richie spat back. “I know you don’t give a shit, I’m fine here. I’ve got Jean. You can go now.”

But Eddie simply gripped his arm so tight Richie watched Eddie himself wince.

“You’re not his mom,” Jean snapped, grabbing Richie’s arm and pulling him back. “Or his keeper. He can make his own choices. You can’t just drag him out of here.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at her and snarled, “Watch me.”

And then he pulled Richie’s arm hard and dragged him through the crowd of people.

But Richie wasn’t going to go so easy. As soon as they got outside, Richie shrugged Eddie off him, tears of frustration and sadness threatening to spill.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Eddie glared at him and snapped, “No fuck you, asshole. I’m trying to help you.”

“Like you care! I’m nothing to you other than someone you are unfortunately universally bound to,” Richie slurred, the tears falling out at the last part. “I can look after myself.”

He then turned around and unironically fell over a branch into the gravel. The rocks broke through his jeans at the knees and the stings were numbed by the alcohol, but he knew it probably hurt more than he thought.

This was then confirmed by Eddie yelling, “Ow, Rich!”

“M sorry,” Richie said trying to sit up on his own. “I don’t mean to hurt you ever.”

Eddie knelt down next to Richie, and for the first time in weeks he looked at him in the eyes. Richie could see the sadness swimming in the brown and wondered if Eddie could see the same emotion mirrored in his eyes.

“Not just this way,” Richie continued, trying his best to explain. “In any way.”

Drunk Richie really had a way with words.

Eddie didn’t reply, just grabbed Richie and pulled him up again. This time there was no protests because Richie had blood evidence that he was not capable of getting himself anywhere.

“Just sit still, I’ll take us back to yours,” Eddie said softly.

Richie shook his head, fresh tears spilling, “You don’t need to. I can get Bev to come. You’re not obligated to.”

“I kind of am, dumbass. Shut the fuck up and let me take you home, Rich,” Eddie half yelled, but without the bite he was expecting.  
After that he let Eddie guide him to Bill’s car and strap him in like a baby. Richie wiped at his still weeping eyes and looking out the window. He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him sporadically the whole ride to his house. But he didn’t look back. He’d embarrassed himself enough that night.

“Don’t say anything, just walk up to your room, I’ll talk to Went and Mags,” Eddie instructed firmly as they walked into Richie’s house.

So, Richie slightly stumbled up the stairs, both arms holding onto the rail for dear life. When he finally reached his room, he kicked off his shoes and stripped to his boxers wanting to rid himself of the night.

“I told your parents we fell asleep reading comics. I also grabbed a first aid kit from downstairs to clean you up,” came Eddie’s voice from his doorway.

Richie smiled slightly, falling back on the bed and mummering, “’M sorry Eddie.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” Eddie replied, sitting down next to him and opening the kit. “I hate seeing you cry.”

“I deserve it, I’m a terrible person. I don’t blame you for not wanting me.”

“That’s not true,” was Eddie’s reply. Richie didn’t quite process the words at the time, he was also focusing on the stinging pain as Eddie disinfected his grazes.

He watched Eddie wince slightly and pushed his hands away, “Stop. I know it’s hurting you.”

“I don’t want you to get an infection, Richie,” he said quickly. “Much rather this than feel a fucking blood infection.”

Richie chuckled slightly and stayed silent as Eddie finished up. He caught his eyes for a second and Eddie slowly reached out to touch Richie’s arm.

“I miss you. I miss you so much it fucking hurts.”

“Not true. I’d feel it,” Richie joked.

He watched Eddie roll his eyes and smiled slightly. Taking the opportunity, he slowly brought his hand to Eddie’s face and cupped his cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” stumbled out of Richie’s mouth.

He heard Eddie’s breath hitch, but he was out like a light before he caught Eddie’s reply.

  
The next morning, Richie was absolutely paying for his actions. Head thumping, stomach rolling and mouth tasting like pure shit. What the _fuck_ did he drink last night? And how the _fuck_ did he get home?

The night before was a bit of a blur, and he could barely remember pieces of the night. He also noticed the bandage on his knees and the slight stinging pain, so he assumed he fell at some point.

When he made his way to the clubhouse at lunchtime, he vomited on the path three time and almost fell down the stairs. At the time he was too out of it to even think about the soulmate thing.

Until he was faced with a very annoyed Bev and Stan.

“Richie you’re a fucking idiot,” Bev scolded from her seat on the floor.

Forcing a smile and an accent, Richie said, “That’s a well-established fact, mi’lady.”

“Don’t you mi’lady me right now!”

Stan stepped in then and said, “Do you understand what you have done to _Eddie_?”  
The cogs in Richie’s brain turned for a bit and he rubbed his head.

“Uh? No?”

They both shared a look before Bev announced, “He’s a dumbass. An absolute idiot.”

“Richie, think about it,” Stan said. “Really think about how you’re _feeling_ right now.”

And the tiny lightbulb lit up.

“Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck indeed,” Stan supplied.

Immediately Richie felt like the worst person on the planet.

“Where is he?” he asked, sweeping the clubhouse which was empty aside from Mike dozing in the corner.

“He felt the vomit coming on, Ben and Bill took him away to get through it,” Stan replied with a frown. “You need to think about these things, Rich.”

Richie threw his hands up in the air and yelled, “I just wanted to feel something other than sad for once, Stan!”

It was then that the clubhouse opened again and Bill jumped down, took one look at Richie and sighed.

“G-god you l-look like s-s-shit,” he stated.

Shrugging his shoulders Richie asked, “Is Eds okay?”

“G-g-getting there. He f-feels awful,” Bill said. “B-but you would k-know that already.”

Walking over to the ladder, Richie stated, “I’m gonna go find him. Thanks for taking me home last night as well, Bill.”

“I d-d-didn’t,” Bill replied with raised brows. “Eddie d-did.”

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, big thanks to everyone interacting with the story!


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